


Sometimes Cupid Uses Lightning

by Annehiggins



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Posted on Live Journal Sept. 5, 2009 for the Space Married Exchange. Jim and Chekov get separated from the away team during a freaky thunderstorm ... while sheltering in a cave they draw up plans for a double wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Cupid Uses Lightning

  
**Sometimes Cupid Uses Lightning**  
By Anne Higgins

The storm literally came out of nowhere. Captain James T. Kirk and Ensign Pavel Chekov had stopped to run yet another in a series of scans on the local flora and fauna while enjoying the brilliant blue sky and the warmth of the twin suns shining in the sky above. Seriously. Bright blue sky, suns blazing away, not a cloud in the sky. Then everything went black. Not, 'damnit Jim you've given yourself another concussion' black, but the deep dark of a night with no moon.

Startled, Jim looked up to see a sky full of the blackest damned clouds he'd ever seen, and how the hell had that happened without so much as a breeze to rustle the grass? Lightning flashed, thunder roared and a nearby tree shattered into flaming kindling. _"Enterprise,"_ Jim shouted into his comm while stepping between Chekov and the flaming debris. "Emergency beam out!"

He couldn't hear any response through the sudden deafening boom after boom of thunder accompanying a near blinding dance of lightning crackling all around them. The swirling brightness of the transporter joined the light show, and Jim held his breath.

For one brief moment he felt the pull of his ship and safety, then a lurching sensation and the storm seemed to close in on them, snuffing out their escape route. Another too close for comfort ground strike banished any notion of holding position for a second beam out attempt. He grabbed Chekov's arm and started running toward the rocky hills about a half-mile away.

*

Doctor Leonard McCoy capped a vial of soil and dropped it toward his sample kit. The small tube finished its fall aboard the _Enterprise._ He blinked in surprise. "The hell?" he snapped, never pleased with transporting, and certainly not when it happened without warning. He whirled around to face the control station, noting an equally surprised Hikaru Sulu on his right before turning his ire on the man behind their unexpected extraction. "Scotty, what the hell?"

The ship's Chief Engineer ignored him for the moment, his hands flying over the controls, his normally cheerful face twisted into a deep frown. Then he cursed, gesturing wildly in what seemed an effort not to slam his fists down on the panel. Leonard put it together with Jim's absence, and his blood went cold at about the same time Sulu asked, "Where's Pavel?"

*

His hand gripping Chekov so tightly his knuckles turned white, Jim ran for his life. Fortunately Chekov seemed okay with the plan and dragged him along about as often as Jim managed to drag him.

The storm acted almost malevolent, lightning striking trees all around them like some drunken pilot on a half-assed strafing run. A torrent of rain pelted them making it almost difficult to breathe and footing treacherous, but at least it kept the burning trees from turning into a firestorm. Freakiest weather Jim had ever seen and he was from Iowa for fuck's sake!

Nearly blinded by rain and the near-strobe effect of the almost continuous lightning, they struggled to stay on their feet as the ground began to slope upwards. Made it to the hills, but they couldn’t go far up or they'd become better targets than the beleaguered trees. Fortunately Jim's tendency for luck to make crazy swings from one extreme to the other held, and they pulled themselves up onto a ledge outside a glorious hole in the rocky surface.

Not too big, but it had a nice curvature to it that let them put most of a rock wall between themselves and the mouth being battered by the storm. Jim's legs suggested now would be an excellent time to collapse, but he told them to shut up, and started going through the survival section of his field kit. Most of it was based on the same sort of compressed/fold technology as Sulu's katana, so in a few moments of 'unpack and press here to deploy,' they had set up a couple of non-conductive basins to catch rainwater; used a mini-sonic generator to dry off both themselves and their clothes; and settled in under thermal blankets to stare at their food stores. Six energy bars each. Enough for two days or six depending on how often they ate. Something that was Jim's call.

In his experience – extensive, because, hello, Iowa – furious thunderstorms tended to have a short life. But this thing had already lasted over an hour and showed signs of getting worse, not dying off. He had the uncomfortable feeling they might have a long wait. "One a day, Ensign," he said, speaking for the first time since they'd found their refuge. To his surprise, his voice carried over the never-ending thunder. Huh. A refuge with good acoustics.

Chekov nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then, "Keptin?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Hika- the others made it back to the ship?"

Bones. He forced himself to think of the possibilities, and to his relief, he felt certain of the answer. "Yeah. Storm seemed to form over us. The others would have been closer to the leading edge. Scotty got 'em."

"Good. That is good."

Yeah, it was.

*

"So we take a fucking shuttle craft and go get them!" Leonard wanted to kill someone and it seemed like the Vulcan-in-command had volunteered for the job.

"To what purpose, Doctor?" Spock asked. "Its sensors would be as blinded as the ship's."

"Aye," Scotty agreed although he had the grace to look sad about it. He nodded toward the image on the view screen. Less than an hour ago it had been a jewel of sparkling blues and greens. Now it was covered in a thick black shroud ruffled by muted pulses of light. "With that monster raging and no sensors, we could be hovering right over them with nary a clue."

"I'll risk it!"

Spock went on in his relentless, heartless assessment of this fuckfest. "Even if we were able to make visual contact, the shuttlecraft would become a focal point for the lightning. You would neither be able to leave it nor pick up passengers."

"Damnit, Spock!" Leonard exploded. "Jim's down there! Stop telling me what we fucking can't do!" His fists clenched and he was seriously considering throwing a punch. Maybe Spock still had a fondness for marooning mutineers.

Nyota Uhura's long graceful fingers settled on his arm. He was angry enough to say something cutting even to her, but she had more than comfort/restraint to offer. "We need to find a way for the sensors to identify them. The communication array is the strongest platform we have. If we can piggyback biosensors to that, we can at least find them." She looked from him to Sulu. "I'll need help with the filters."

Scotty nodded. "In the meantime, Gaila and I can be working on a way to sort out the electrical interference so the transporter can collect them once you find them."

A plan. Although he suspected Nyota's request for help was more of a way to give him and Sulu something to do, but at least it was a plan. He narrowed his glare on the hobgoblin again. "How long?"

"I estimate refinements will take up to three days."

A shudder ran through him and he saw the color drain from Sulu's face. "Spock, no one can survive that long in a storm like that."

Spock turned his all too calm gaze on him. "If the Captain and Ensign Chekov failed to find shelter, they are already dead," he said. "However, I have come to trust in the Captain's resourcefulness and shall proceed on the assumption that they have found a place to wait for rescue."

He pushed back panic and did a fast inventory of what both men were carrying, then nodded. "They'll be uncomfortable, but they should be able to hold out."

"Then I suggest we begin our respective tasks."

*

They spent the first day waiting for the storm to end. Somewhere along mid-day on the second morning, it sunk in that this storm might have more to do with the Red Spot on Jupiter than anything ever encountered in Iowa. And that fucker had raged for millennia.

They spent the rest of that day swapping stories about their childhoods. Even having to edit a lot of shit, Jim managed to do his share of the … well, sharing. Academy tales filled day three (again heavily edited because Chekov came off as far too innocent for the X-rated stuff.) And somewhere in there Chekov became Pavel. Almost a shame the command crew had never all been marooned somewhere where they could all just talk and really get to know each other.

On day four the storm got worse. Lightning strikes went from one every five seconds to one every two. The wind picked up to what Jim estimated had to be somewhere in the vicinity of 250 mph. Stepping around the edge of the rock wall for … a few moments of privacy provided the 'entertainment' of huge trees and boulders going sailing by the mouth of the cave. If the wind shifted direction so it came into the cave instead of past it. … Here everyone was worried about Jim getting his ass terminated by Klingons or hostile natives or some other form of human violence when they should have been worried about freak storms that never ended and lightning. Lots and lots of lightning.

The rock seemed to handle the actual force of the strikes well enough. Just like, incredibly, he could catch glimpses of trees still standing. But if a planet liked to go through a weather apocalypse every now and then, it stood to reason things that lasted would have certain durability. So, yeah, durable as hell. Also fucking conductive.

They hadn't really managed to sleep more than a few minutes at a time since finding their rocky sanctuary. Too loud, too bright, but along with more wind and rain, day four seemed to renew the lighting's interest in them. It began striking all along the ridge sheltering their cave, coursing through the alien rock to shock them. Like picking up a toaster with wet hands. Over and over again. Only a matter of time before the horrible numb/pain/zing-sensation got fucking serious and fried them.

Jim grimaced through yet another zap and tried to keep the worry off his face. Brave captain mojo and all of that, but Pavel gave him a sad look, then in a voice full of 'I know we are going to die' he said, "I wish I had asked Hikaru to marry me."

Fuck. The worst thing should have been that Jim would never see the ripe old age of 27. But nope, not even close. Having to reassure an 18 year-old kid they had a shot in hell when they were so toast had a firm lock on that distinction. Not to mention an 18-year-old-kid genius who knew better, but it came under the heading of captain stuff to give it a try. "There's still time," he tried after clinching his teeth through another jolt.

Pavel grimaced. Jim thought it was from the low-grade electrocution, but turned out he'd hit a nerve. (Well, that _and_ the electrocution.) "Time. Bah!"

 _Bah?_ People actually said bah?

"I spit at time! Always it is my enemy," he went on his wild curls made wilder by this fucking planet's Mother Nature with a taser. _"You are too young, Pasha. You must wait, Pasha. All things in their time, Pasha.'_ Often I hint to Hikaru it is time we should marry, but always he changes subject. Always he thinks I am too young to know my own heart."

Jim would have made a settle down gesture, but knew his hand would shake too much to pull it off, so he settled on giving Pavel a rueful smile that admitted he sort of thought the same thing, but not really, because he so got the annoyance of others using age as a measure of what could or could not be done. He struggled to find words to go with the smile, but he was caught between knowing he shared this soon-to-be tomb with another grown man and thinking damnit, the kid was way too young. For death. For marriage. For anything, but worrying about what to order on his pizza.

Fortunately Pavel didn't give him a chance to put his proverbial foot in his mouth. "I know I am young, yes. But he is my everything. Like Dr. McCoy is for you."

Fuck, fuck and triple fuck! Jim's eyes widened – and he would have sworn his constantly zapped existence already had them at maximum openage. "That's supposed to be a secret!" he protested.

That got him the sort of 'oh, please' look he was more accustomed to seeing on Uhura's face than Pavel's. "Everyone knows, Keptin."

Oh shit! It had taken four years of pining, pleading, and pouting to get Bones to do even the fuck buddy thing. And that had been on the condition that they keep it a secret because 'he was a doctor, not a notch on a bedpost.' Jim had wanted to tell him there wouldn't have even been a damned notched anything post-'I may throw up on you' if a certain sex-on-a-stick doctor had taken the hint, but … well, he could handle most of what the universe threw at him without raising a sweat, but laying it all out at the risk of getting laughed at? No, call him a coward, but he couldn't handle even the thought of it. And it was okay. Bones _liked_ him, and they got to have hot, steamy sex. A lot. Flat out greedy to want more. Tempting to say as much, but he opted against it, deciding it probably had more to do with making him feel better than Pavel. He'd made his choices, and if an 18-year-old kid was sitting there looking far wiser than he could ever hope to be, it was too late to do anything about it.

Another jolt and Jim shuddered with it and the finality of his thoughts. Too late to change anything. End of the line. Guess he believed in the no-win scenario after all.

*

Leonard stared at the monitor on his desk and the readout that both terrified and reassured him. Working round the clock, he, Nyota and Sulu had rigged a bio sensor able to punch through all the biological camouflage to locate Jim and Chekov. That turned out to be the easy part. The nightmarish storm savaging the entire fucking planet – and was that even possible? – made it impossible to do anything. No shuttle craft would last a minute in all the turbulence rocking the upper atmosphere, while the electrical frenzy lighting up the furious thunderheads made using the transporters a guarantee of certain death.

It left them all in a familiar if frustrating place – waiting for Scotty to pull off some miracle in defiance of all odds, of all rationality. He watched the biosensors flash off and held his breath for the split second it took for them to light back up. Each flicker represented two hearts stopping. For the fifth time today.

He reached out and touched the lights, the relatively crude sensor unable to tell which one represented Jim, which Chekov. Hard to imagine either of their hearts failing. Both so full of life. Both so young. Jim and his big, big heart. The heart he wanted to give to Leonard. He could see it in Jim's eyes every single time they fu – oh, hell, every time they made love. But Leonard had always pretended he couldn't see it. He'd let the past rule the present, too caught up in the remembered disaster of his failed marriage and Jim's pursuit of multiple one-night stands during their Academy days to admit he'd found the love of his life. Pure cowardice that left him on the brink of a long, lonely life full of regret.

The door to his office slid open and, on a ship full of dispirited crew, the one person who felt the same depth of pain he did entered. He opened his mouth to address the helmsman by his rank, rejected the idea, then made the same decision about his last name. Such shared moments forced an intimacy that made protocol laughable. "Hikaru."

The younger man gave him the same stricken look he knew he must have plastered on his own face. "Leonard," he said, his gaze zooming in on the two lights that provided their only link to the men they loved. "They went off for a moment."

Leonard nodded. The sensor readout could display on any viewscreen in the ship, but he was the only one who really understood what it meant. He'd really hoped Hikaru would opt for blissful ignorance for at least awhile longer, but it wasn't within Leonard's character to lie about medical conditions. "Their hearts stopped, then restarted."

Paling, Hikaru practically fell into the nearest chair, his head dropping into his hands. "Any … any idea what is causing it?"

"It's like they're constantly getting hit with defibrillator charges."

"Lightning then."

"That's my guess."

A few moments of silence, then, "What is it doing to them?"

"Not happening long enough or often enough for oxygen deprivation, but there will be heart and nerve damage. Possibly severe."

"Permanent?"

"No." Not if it didn't get worse. Not if it didn't keep happening over and over again. But hell, as long as they were pretending there was a chance they'd get them back, they might as well pretend things wouldn't get worse.

Another silence. This one longer. "Pasha keeps hinting he wants to get married." Hikaru shook his head, his shoulders looking weighed down with the same sort of regret crushing Leonard. "I've been putting him off. It seemed wrong when he is so young." He looked up, his eyes bright. "I'll let him ask next time."

Leonard said nothing. He didn't know whether to admire the man's stubborn optimism or pity his delusion. But he couldn't stop himself from thinking _me, too._

*

Day five dawned without either of them getting a moment's sleep. They'd pass out for a few seconds after a jolt, then the next one would bring them around. Jim decided against mentioning the pain in his chest or the tingling near-deadness of his hands and feet. But it didn't take a genius to figure out either the cause or that Pavel suffered from a similar … discomfort.

He cast about for something to talk about, for something to take their minds off this slow death and fixed onto something utterly absurd for two men to discuss. Perfect. "So," he said, "tell me about your wedding plans."

"What?"

"You've been thinking about getting married for at least a few months, right?"

Pavel nodded.

"Then you've had to make a plan or two. Let's hear it."

The faintest of flushes colored pale skin. Probably be blushing bright crimson if they weren't both so close to dying. "It would be in the botanical gardens in San Francisco," he said after a few moments. "He likes botany. You know this, yes?"

Jim nodded. "Makes a garden a good choice. Back home for the families to attend. Yeah, that works. What else?"

"I always thought … what I mean is that I hoped. ..."

Another faint flush, and Jim took pity on him, his lips twitching into a faint smile. Regulations wouldn't let him perform the ceremony back on Earth, which meant, "I'd be honored to stand with you, Pavel." Yeah, he'd love to do that for one of his favorite officers, but then another thought occurred to him. "Or we could make it a double wedding."

The kid managed to look thrilled with the idea, obviously forgetting neither of them would live to see any of it. "This would be wonderful!"

Yeah, it kind of would be. "We could ask Spock, Scotty, Nyota and Gaila to do the wedding party thing," he said. They'd have to mix and match them – Spock and Nyota on one side; Scotty and Gaila on the other – or they'd never hear the end of the bride's-side jokes.

Chekov nodded. "Yes, and Dr. McCoy, he has a daughter, yes?"

"Joanna. She's ten."

"She must be part of it also. As flower girl?"

"Bones would like that." She was such a sweet thing. Pretty, too. Like a little mini-girlBones. "She'll want to wear some sort of gown."

"Ah, colors. What should they be?"

"Make it easy? Command gold and Science blue?"

Another smile and nod. "She will go first, then who?"

"By rank okay?" It made the most sense and Chekov agreed. So Scotty and Gaila would follow the little girl, then Spock with Nyota. Sulu and Chekov would go next, with Jim and Bones last. He could see it all in his mind's eye, but no, didn't look right.

"Something wrong, Keptin?"

"Jim," he corrected for the ninety-ninth time even though he knew it would do no good – kid must recite protocol in his sleep. "Can't say I'm too fond of the idea of getting married in my dress uniform." Associated it with far too many boring functions and painful ass-kissing diplomatic nightmares.

Pavel looked perplexed, like there was no other option possible. "Ever hear of a tuxedo? I guarantee Sulu would look damned fine in one." Although not as fine as his Bones. Those broad shoulders encased in elegant black would be the stuff of many a wet dream.

"Ah, yes, that would be wery nice," he agreed with a somewhat dreamy expression.

Another hard jolt put them out for a few minutes, but then they went on with their plans, pointedly ignoring the charges of nearly continuous lighting strikes coursing through them. Pavel wondered if Admiral Pike might consent to perform the wedding, and Jim thought he could convince him. Given the wide variety of dietary needs of the guests, they decided a buffet, definitely a buffet, was the only way to go.

Two couples meant they could get away with two cakes. Jim decided on chocolate; Chekov on spice. Champagne for everyone and an open bar stocked with every legal liquor they could think of – nothing replicated – was an easy agreement and somewhere in there day six arrived.

They choked down the last of their rations and began to discuss music. Oddly enough, it proved the real sticking point. Pavel envisioned waltzing away the evening to the music of the Academy's orchestra. Jim was more into the idea of a DJ and old-time rock. In the end, they decided, hey, two couples, two cakes and two kinds of music all went well together.

The intensity of the lightning picked up as they came to their final agreement, and Jim knew they didn't have much time left. Desperate to save him, he managed to get his arms to work well enough to pull Pavel onto his lap, using his own body as a buffer between the young man and the deadly electricity. Stupid. The human body wasn't any sort of insulation at all. But he had to try. He _had_ to.

"Song I always ... thought would be our dance," he gasped, somehow thinking it was important to lock down this one last detail. "By Louis ... Armstrong."

"The astro…naut? He sang?"

"No, not Neil Armstrong. … Louis Armstrong. Singer, jazz trum…peter in 20th century."

"Yes? What … is song?"

Tears welled in Jim's eyes. He closed them, wanting the vision of dancing in Bones' arms, instead of their rocky tomb to be the last thing he saw. He groaned at a hard jolt, caught his breath and began to half-sing, half-whisper the words, _"I see trees … of green........ red roses, too. … I see … 'em bloom ... for me … and for you. … And I think to my--"_

A whirling sound and a swirl of light pierced the darkness behind his eyes and cut him off. For a moment he thought a lightning bolt had shattered the wall protecting them, but then he blinked and found they were sitting on the transporter pad.

Cheers and someone pulled Pavel out of his arms, then he heard, "Hikaru?"

"I have you, Pasha."

"Is good. We will marry, yes?"

"Yes. Thank God, yes."

Strong, familiar hands gripped Jim's arms, pulling him up, and he forced his eyes open to look into beautiful hazel eyes he'd never hoped to see again. "Us, too, Bones?" he whispered, fighting to stay conscious. "Please? Us, too?" Fucking darkness took him before he could hear the answer.

*

Leonard set beside the biobed Jim slept on. Hikaru had taken a similar post next to Chekov's. He told himself the same thing he'd told him. They were sleeping off exhaustion and the nerve regeneration treatments. Absolutely no reason to worry about fifteen hours slipping by without either of the men waking up. None at all. But he couldn't relax. Wouldn't relax until he saw Jim's beautiful eyes looking at him again.

"I love you, you know," he said, his voice pitched low, for Jim's ears only. "Have for a long time. Shouldn't have waited so long to tell you." He'd said it once an hour since fate courtesy of yet another Montgomery Scott Miracle had given Jim back to him. This time Jim stirred.

He stood up, gripping the warm, oh, so alive hand. "Jim? Can you hear me?"

Another shift, then "…ones?"

"Yes, baby, it's me," he said, wincing slightly at the endearment, but needing to use one all the same. "You need to wake up so I can say yes."

Big eyes fluttered open. "Yes?"

He leaned down and gave Jim the deepest kissed he dared, then with tears in his eyes he lifted up, looked at him with all the love he felt, and said, "Yes. Hell, yes, I'll marry you."

*

It all happened exactly as Jim and Pavel had planned. Admiral Pike performed the short ceremony – no arm twisting necessary – in front of every friend and family member who could get to San Francisco. Afterwards champagne flowed freely as guests ravaged a lavish buffet spread while a certain captain and ship's navigator looked damned smug at how well things were going. At least they did in between utterly sappy moments of gazing at their respective husbands with adoration. Then came what they'd both waited for almost as eagerly as the actual ceremony.

Given all they'd gone through, both men had agreed that the song Jim had started in the cave would serve as the first dance, and they shared a smile when it was time to move out onto the dance floor with their husbands.

Jim slipped into Bones' arms, and let everything but the man he loved fall away. Well, everything but the man and the song. The music started, their feet began to move, then Jim picked up the melody where the transporter had interrupted and softly sang, _"I think to myself, what a wonderful world. …"_

end


End file.
